


where the heart is

by sinspiration



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, Dom Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Master/Pet, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pet Play, Sub Keith (Voltron), yes you read that rating right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 02:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19032829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinspiration/pseuds/sinspiration
Summary: Shiro’s whole body goes rigid and then loosens in the span of a heartbeat, and his eyes light up as he reverently breathes, “Oh, pet.”





	1. Keith

**Author's Note:**

> idk I wanted soft loving trust pet play because why not??
> 
> (self, how many different ways can you write these two loving each other.)
> 
> (at least three.)
> 
> (probably more than three.)

It’s been a long, long two weeks. Shiro has been in diplomatic meeting after diplomatic meeting in between reading through reports and dealing with a new brand of intergalactic scientists who have been demanding his attention at every turn with questions about the Atlas.

Keith’s time has been equally as full, running interference for a Blade mission that has way more twists and turns than he’d like, up at all hours as more information comes in.

He doesn’t care so much about being run ragged, but it keeps him from Shiro, with them able to do little more than collapse into bed together--in the event they even both make it to bed at the same time. And he can see the edges of Shiro as he gets brittler, for all that he keeps a good face for everyone he cannot afford to be weak in front. In the few moments they’ve managed to see each other, Shiro’s hand immediately goes to Keith’s neck or back or shoulders, a grounding touch but a fleeting one. And then one of them gets pulled away by something neither of them can control, and the last thing Keith gets to see of his husband is his hand reaching out before it clenches into a fist and drops to his side, a mix of emotions playing across his face before it settles into tired resignation.

They’ve both had no time to rest, no time to unwind, no time to reset. This is for both of them.

He still has to push down the guilt from setting all his communication devices to silent. His own mission might be winding down, but it isn’t done yet. But his time is always going to be a hot commodity, and it was Shiro himself who insisted that Keith deserved to eke out space for himself too. Self-care, he called it. Keith is worth his own time. He’s also worth Shiro’s, and he knows that the scientists left this morning. Shiro sent him a relieved message telling him so.

_Looking forward to an early night and a peaceful morning. Missing you._

Keith agrees that an early night would be best, and he doesn’t want anything too intense anyway. Or rather, that’s not it, because being with Shiro is always intense in different ways, but he wants them to be able to relax, not get wound up. Just an evening being together. He wants to remind himself that he’s Shiro’s and that Shiro is his. Wants to settle that sense of belonging.

He also wants to give Shiro a sense of control back, because even as a leader, Shiro’s decisions are often not his own. It wears on him, in the same way the responsibility of making important calls wears on Keith.

There’s an order to his attire when he puts it on himself, and he has to choose specific accessories that don’t need additional hands. He gathers it all up and goes to the living room. He’s already changed into a tank top and shorts, both made of soft material that’s pleasant to curl up in. Not naked, but plenty of skin bared, and that’s part of the point too.

He puts his things down on the couch and then reaches for the coffee table. It opens up for storage, and from it he pulls the large, cushioned pad it houses. This is dropped on the floor right next to the entryway, and then he goes back to the couch to grab everything before lowering himself down onto the cushion.

His collar, as always, is first. He knows that some people have several, but he only has the one. It’s one of his most important possessions and love is imbued into the supple leather. It’s simple, with a permanent d-ring in the back and a snap-loop in the front for a removable one. Shiro had quietly and privately proposed with it, and the snap-loop holds Keith’s wedding band perfectly.

Next are the kneepads. Shiro found a comfortable, movable kind that dancers use, and he insists Keith wear them unless they’re doing something rougher. And while rough is something they both often need, Keith knows that this evening should be the opposite. So he pulls them on and adjusts them until they conform just right, then reaches for his footwear. They’re not quite ballet heels, not being as pointed, since Shiro was worried about hurting Keith’s feet. Instead the heel curls down past the toe of the shoe, making standing almost impossible.

Then come his ears. They clip into his hair, and he’s attached them enough himself to know exactly how to place them. Clips give more leeway than headbands, and they’re just as easy to remove. He has sturdier ears, but they’re built into his muzzle, and he can’t wear that because he needs his mouth to finish putting on his last accessory.

Those are his paws. He slips his hands into them, using his teeth to properly attach the velcro around his right wrist.

Once he’s outfitted, he curls up on his cushion to wait. It could be a while, in the event that Shiro gets held up, but he knows for certainty that Shiro _is_ coming, and Keith is comfortable and already more relaxed than he’s been in ages. He closes his eyes.

Opens them again once he hears the sound of the door opening, not sure how much time had passed but not too worried about it. Shiro enters with his shoulders slumped and eyes downcast, sighing heavily as he steps out of his shoes. Every line of him echoes exhaustion and Keith has to fight the urge to scramble to his hands and knees and go to him.

Instead he shifts on his cushion, not quite uncurling yet, and watches through half-lidded eyes as Shiro finally picks up his head and sees him.

The effect has happy warmth spiraling through him. Shiro’s whole body goes rigid and then loosens in the span of a heartbeat, and his eyes light up as he reverently breathes, “Oh, pet.”

Now Keith does uncurl, stretching a little as he sits up. Shiro comes closer and crouches down, and Keith bumps his head against his thigh as Shiro’s fingers slide through his hair. “Hello love,” Shiro murmurs. “I missed you.”

Keith nuzzles into him, preening, and rubs his cheek against Shiro’s when Shiro leans in. Shiro’s quiet exhale is another victory.

Keith only pulls away because the couch is a much more comfortable place to cuddle. With this in mind, he butts his head against Shiro one more time, settles onto his hands and knees and starts to crawl in that direction, throwing an expectant look at Shiro over his shoulder.

Shiro lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Go on, pet. I’m just going to change, okay?”

This is acceptable. Keith gives him a slow blink and then makes his way back over to the living room.

Getting onto the couch on his own while wearing his paws isn’t easy, and he doesn’t even bother trying. It’s easier to wait until Shiro returns to help him, and that takes almost no time at all.

Shiro already looks so much better when he comes into the living room. He’s in sweats, with an open zip-up hoodie over a plain white tank, and he smiles at Keith like he’s the best thing in the world. “Don’t know how I got so lucky,” he says as he pulls Keith up, settling them both on the couch. Keith moves to pillow his head on Shiro’s thigh and Shiro’s fingers immediately sink into his hair. “God, look at you. You’re so perfect.”

Keith basks in the praise and shifts so that he’s lying half on his back, able to look up at Shiro’s face. Shiro continues petting him, fingers occasionally straying to stroke down the side of his face and his neck. They play with the ring securely snapped into Keith’s collar then brush over Keith’s collarbone, stroke around the shell of his ear.

Keith gets to watch in real time as Shiro calms further, even as he sinks himself. He closes his eyes and wriggles happily, pressing a kiss to Shiro’s palm when it moves back down to cup his face but otherwise content to lay there curled up against Shiro and let Shiro touch and take.

He feels something soft brush against the tip of his nose and scrunches it up on reflex. But the soft thing brushes him again, so he grumbles and opens his eyes, nearly crossing them to focus on what turns out to be one of the strings of Shiro’s hoodie, as Shiro dangles it in front of Keith’s face.

Shiro’s smile is impish, eyes playful, and they crinkle at the corners with delight when Keith raises one paw to bat at the string. One paw becomes two as Shiro jerks the string out of Keith’s reach and Keith tries to catch it, and he totally loses himself in the game and Shiro’s deep-throated chuckles above him and around him.

When Keith does catch the string, it’s with his teeth, having risen up in Shiro’s lap to bite down. He keeps it firmly between his teeth and tugs until Shiro relinquishes his hold, but before he can curl back up with his prize, Shiro presses a hand to his back, keeping him sitting up. That’s fine with Keith. He rubs his cheek against Shiro’s chest, letting go of the string to nuzzle under Shiro’s chin, and trills in pleasure when Shiro’s hand wraps around his shoulders and pulls him in.

Completely and happily surrounded, Keith closes his eyes again as Shiro’s free hand strokes up and down his side, rubs over his stomach and chest, lazily petting as they both drift.

When fingers curl in his hair this time, it’s to tip his head back. Keith opens up for the kiss sweet and easy, letting out a little wisp of a moan into Shiro’s mouth. He feels so good like this, safe and held and kept by the one person he’s ever wanted to belong to, and the fact that he _can_ trust Shiro this much takes Keith’s breath away. The fact that Shiro is able to do the same, that he can trust Keith to give him what he needs, that he knows Keith will allow this control because Shiro is _worth it_ –  

Keith pours his love and his surrender into the kiss, boneless and owned in Shiro’s arms, and when Shiro draws back to cup Keith’s cheek, his expression is soft and besotted. “So perfect for me, pet,” he says, voice low and liquid. “I’m so lucky you’re mine.”

Keith beams up at him, projects _yours, yours, yours_ , as Shiro keeps stroking his hair, keeps murmuring praise.

_“You’re so good.”_

_“I love you so much.”_

And eventually, _“thank you,”_ whispered against his skin.


	2. Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It punches through him, Keith being here, presenting Shiro with exactly what he needs right now. Giving him his control back, ready to allow Shiro to take care of something so precious. “Oh, pet,” he breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if I did the exact same thing but in Shiro pov? WHAT IF

Shiro has positive feelings towards many things. Exploring, learning, space and all it can contain... It’s taken time, but he’s also regained much of the enjoyment that comes from meeting new people and experiencing new cultures. 

He does not like endless meetings and questions. He hates being poked and prodded at. And the fact that these things have been keeping from the person he loves most in the entire expanse of the universe for almost two weeks has him clenching his fists and gritting his teeth and that just brings on an additional headache.

It’s stupid. He knows it is. He and Keith have been apart before, and for longer. They have separate duties and missions, and Shiro only has pride for Keith’s elevated status and all that he has accomplished. They still come home to each other in the end.

But in this case they both  _ are _ home. They just keep missing each other, pulled away from even the small, minute moments Shiro tries to take and hold onto, and Shiro’s team is one thing, but having scientists from another  _ fucking _ galaxy ask increasingly invasive questions about his arm, this one as well as his first, for no other reason than  _ fucking curiosity– _

He’s wound tight. He knows he is. And there’s no helping it. All he can do is paste on a smile and desperately look forward to the day they leave, the day he has a free evening, the day Keith does too and Shiro can just… hold him and  _ breathe. _

It takes forever, but finally two of those wishes come true. The scientists leave and Shiro makes the decision to give himself the night off. He deserves that much. Keith is finishing up his current Blade project and probably won’t be back until late, if he comes back at all, but Shiro can’t help the hopeful ache when he sends Keith a message about his plans.

_ Looking forward to an early night and a peaceful morning. Missing you. _

Then it’s just getting through the rest of the day.

When he finally does get home, the exhaustion hits him fully now that he no longer has to keep going as hard. He isn’t looking forward to an empty apartment, but at least it’ll be a safe space.

Head down, he steps out his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket. Takes a breath as he finally picks up his head

And there’s Keith. Curled up on his cushion and watching Shiro through half-lidded eyes. Shiro’s own eyes widen as he takes Keith in, the shoes he can’t walk in, his ears and paws, his collar. It punches through him, Keith being here, presenting Shiro with exactly what he needs right now. Giving him his control back, ready to allow Shiro to take care of something so precious. “Oh, pet,” he breathes.

Keith uncurls and stretches, sitting up on his knees as Shiro comes closer and crouches down. He sinks his fingers into Keith’s hair, just feeling him, here and real and gorgeous, and Keith bumps his head against Shiro’s thigh. “Hello love,” Shiro murmurs. God, he really is the luckiest man alive. “I missed you.”

His focus narrows as Keith nuzzles into him and already he feels lighter. He’s home and Keith is here, was  _ waiting _ for him. Was waiting to give him this.

The loss is intense as Keith pulls away, but it’s fleeting once he realizes Keith is heading towards their living room and fully expects Shiro to follow. It gives Shiro the strength to leave him for the few moments it takes to change into more comfortable clothes.

When he returns to Keith, he’s half-on the couch, head pillowed on his paws and knees on the floor. He gives Shiro an imploring look and Shiro smiles, scooping him up and settling them both on the couch. Keith immediately moves to nestle against Shiro’s thigh and Shiro still doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, what he did to deserve Keith’s surrender and trust, but everything he’s ever had to go through was worth it for moments like these. “Don’t know how I got so lucky,” he says, stroking through Keith’s hair, petting his face and neck as Keith shifts up to smile at him. “God, look at you. You’re so perfect.”

It’s amazing how calmness starts to settle over him, the stress and weariness finally starting to leach from Shiro’s bones as his beautiful, perfect little pet curls up in his lap and closes his eyes, radiating contentment. Shiro takes and takes, running his hands all over Keith’s lithe body. Keith would let him do anything, he knows. He allows Shiro total control, the control that sometimes slips through Shiro’s fingers even as he desperately tries to cling to it. Shiro’s had so much taken away from him, so much lost, so many choices that were not his to make and Keith knows and  _ understands, _ because just like Shiro thrives on having control, Keith thrives on relinquishing it.

But only for Shiro. Only ever for Shiro. Shiro is the only one allowed to see Keith like this, soft and relaxed and happy--and owned.

It makes him giddy. Playful. And he’s conveniently wearing a hoodie with strings.

Grinning now--and how amazing is it, that he’s able to--he pulls on one of the strings, making it longers as the other grows shorter, until he’s got room and then some to tickle Keith’s nose with it. Said nose scrunches adorably, but Keith doesn’t open his eyes, so Shiro does it again.

Keith will never admit it, but he’s a pouter. Shiro loves it, loves the little push of his lips as he grumbles and opens his eyes, nearly crossing them as they focus on the string. Shiro’s grin only grows as Keith brings up one paw to bat at it, nose wrinkling again when Shiro jerks the string up and away.

The chuckle that escapes him is a surprise, but a welcome one. Keith brings up both paws to bat at the string, mouth pursed in concentration, and Shiro feels so light watching him, nearly breathless with it by the time Keith darts up to snatch the string with his teeth. He looks inordinately pleased with himself at having caught his prize, tugging determinedly until Shiro surrenders it.

Shiro moves to support Keith’s back, keeping him sitting up, and Keith’s attention is diverted from the string to nuzzle up into his chest. There are few things that Shiro enjoys more than Keith pressed up against him, and he gives in to wrapping his arms around Keith to get him closer as he rewards him with more pets and praise.

Time moves like honey as they drift together, slow and syrupy and sweet. Keith is just as sweet when Shiro moves to kiss him, letting out a tiny moan that Shiro greedily swallows as he endeavors to coax out more. It’s so good, so amazing having Keith in his arms like this, getting to hold him and taste him and just  _ be. _ Just be Shiro, with all his needs and wants and scars and failings, and know that Keith loves him despite it all,  _ because _ of it all. “So perfect for me, pet,” he murmurs, because Keith deserves to hear it forever. “I’m so lucky you’re mine.” Because he is, his so, so lucky and grateful. “You’re so good. I love you so much.”

Keith beams up at him, looking as though there’s no place he’d rather be, wearing the collar that shows there’s no one else he’d rather belong to. More than just willing; happy and proud to give himself to Shiro so completely.

Shiro gathers him up and tucks his face into Keith’s neck, whispering a  _ “thank you,” _ into his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being witness to total self-indulgence. Good night!

**Author's Note:**

> Yell about sheith with me on Twitter!


End file.
